


MCYTober Oneshots

by ChipperChemical



Series: Dream SMP stuff [10]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Entirely Fluff, Gen, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, don’t worry about it, i would say too much but i’m no coward, joke tags are a consistency on this profile, literally so much, look at my other stories i swear they’re good, made by @/ReilyDraws on Twitter (of all places)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 11,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChipperChemical/pseuds/ChipperChemical
Summary: Using a prompt list made by @/ReilyDraws (Twitter), this book is comprised of daily oneshots of MCYTers![All of these stories are written with the intention of being platonic, but you can interpret them in whatever way you’d like I suppose]
Relationships: Antfrost & Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Antfrost, Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Eret & Floris | Fundy, Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch
Series: Dream SMP stuff [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181660
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207





	1. First day of fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oneshots pog

Bad was excited.

Why wouldn't he be? Everything was perfect: the house was heated comfortably, his cloak had been freshly taken out of the dryer and was still radiating warmth and softness, his special gluten-free pumpkin-spice muffins were busy raising in the oven, not to mention the crisp amber leaves littering his lawn already. He'd go as far as to say it was picturesque.

Autumn had always been Bad's favourite season, no doubt about it. The soft vibes, the warm colours, the relaxation and the trees and the weather and the everything. Spring, of course, was his second favourite, the blooming flowers and symbolism of a new beginning, but no amount of daffodils or Easter eggs could quite add up to the feeling of breathing in the fresh, crisp air, on the first day of Autumn.

Despite practically drowning in his thoughts, Bad still heard the knock at his door as clear as day, causing him to stop whatever he was doing (though, to be fair, daydreaming about seasons wasn't exactly productive) to rush and answer. Bouncing on his heels, he swung open the door, greeted by Sapnap's friendly grin and an enveloping hug.

"Bad!" Sapnap exclaimed, stepping back from the hug to smile again, "Nice to see you, my dude!"

"Thank you! Come in!" Bad invited, shifting to the side to let Sapnap in, closing the door behind him. Adjusting his headband momentarily, Sapnap paused to breathe in the homely smell that Bad's house always seemed to hold, before something caught his attention.

"Woah, is that pumpkin spice I smell?" He questioned, splitting yet another grin when Bad nodded eagerly, "Damn Bad, way to set the festivity!"

"Yup; they're pumpkin-spice muffins! My own recipe," Bad explained, watching how Sapnap's expression lit up like a kid in a candy store.

"You baked muffins?! Ugh, Bad, you're the best!" Sapnap practically shouted, now bouncing in excitement himself, "Where are they?"

"Calm down, you potato, they're still in the oven." Bad smiled fondly, motioning vaguely to the kitchen, "Not done yet."

Groaning despite his smile, Sapnap kicked his sneakers off (to Bad's mild disappointment, they weren't his light-up sketchers), knowing already that he could make himself at home and wandering into living room, Bad following him happily. As if it were habit, and maybe it was, they both flopped onto their respective places on the couches, no need to fill the comfortable silence they so often shared.

After a few long moments, Sapnap spoke up, making light conversation about whatever had happened since they last caught up: Munchy events, Manhunts, their friends, anything that worked. Despite how much they loved each other's company, they both perked up when a knock sounded out for second time and Bad stood, brushing himself down and heading to the door.

Opening the entrance once again, Bad's eyes sparked when he saw George, who was wrapped in a blue coat and scarf, and Dream, who had a stray leaf stuck to his mask which he quickly swept away.

"Hey Bad!" George waved, voice slightly muffled through the thick fabric covering his mouth. Beside him, Dream waved, his hands obscured by a pair of green and white striped gloves.

"Hi, you muffins! Come in!" Bad stepped aside happily, letting Dream and George in before shutting the door behind them, "You can take off your jackets and stuff and leave them here."

Nodding, George began to strip himself of the excessive layers, hanging his coat on a nearby hook before resting his scarf on it too, as Dream pulled off his gloves and shoved them into George's jacket pocket, not wanting to carry them with him. They both pulled their shoes off, setting them next to Sapnap's and sharing a brief smile (assumably, from behind Dream's mask) before following Bad into the living room.

Once Dream and George had settled down in their own places on the couches, already greeting Sapnap, Bad smiled, about to offer drinks when an alarm on his phone rung out, making the other three look to him curiously.

"Muffins!" Bad exclaimed, taking a moment to disable the alarm before rushing to the kitchen, opening the oven and being hit with a wave of warmth and pumpkin-spice. With a hum, he lifted them from the oven using a mitten, carrying the tray of treats into the living room and setting them on the coffee table, hitting Sapnap's hand away when he instantly reached for one, "No, bad Sapnap! They're hot!"

"But Ba-a-ad!" Sapnap whined as Bad shook his head disapprovingly.

"They're so much better when they're hot." Dream commented, earning an eager nod of approval from Sapnap, who then immediately turned back to Bad with the expression of a pleading puppy. Holding back a sigh, Bad raised an eyebrow.

"You'll burn your mouth." Bad reminded, sliding off his oven mittens, "Lemme go put these back..."

As soon as Bad left, Sapnap jumped for a muffin, holding the white paper case cautiously in an attempt to not burn his fingers. After a brief moment of hesitation, he peeled the wrapper down, holding the muffin up and glancing to the other two, who both had somewhat encouraging expressions (or maybe Sapnap just imagined that from behind their mask and glasses respectively), before leaning forward, biting into the muffin and—

"Ah!" Sapnap exclaimed, setting the cake on the table and leaving his mouth open, the boiling treat sat on his tongue statically as Dream began to quietly snicker, "Is ho'!" George then began laughing as Sapnap tried to swallow the bitten muffin, struggling for a solid few moments before managing and panting as soon as the heat source was off of his tongue.

"And that's why you always listen to Bad, you potato." Bad snarked from the doorway, where he'd apparently been standing the whole time, moving to sit on a couch as Sapnap flushed from embarrassment.

"Hey! It tasted good!" He defended, crossing his arms playfully, "No regrets..."

Bad chuckled, looking around at his friends, all laughing and grinning, content with just being in each other's company again, and smiled.

He loved his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could rename literally this whole book to "headcanons" and it'd work


	2. Field fun

“You’re such a nerd.” Techno huffed fondly, collapsing on the blanket next to Phil as Wilbur lightly kicked him in the side and sat beside him. It had been Phil’s idea, of course, to have a picnic on a field in the middle of October, but no-one was particularly complaining.

“I’m not a nerd!” Wilbur defended, though his poorly-hidden smile said differently, “Dad, tell him!”

“Techno, consider yourself told.” Phil playfully scolded, even tutting for good measure, as Techno laid on his back and rest his hands behind his head, elbows jutting out, gazing to the quickly darkening sky.

“Damn. This is devastating.” Despite already being ‘told off’ by Phil, Techno decided — for good measure — to elbow Wilbur in the ribs, chuckling at the soft groan he got from it.

“Techno!” Wilbur shouted, rubbing his ribs in an overdramatic performance, “This is it, this is how I die. Elbowed by Technoblade.”

“I’m just doing the blood god’s work.” Techno smirked sleazily, glancing at Wilbur to make sure he wasn’t actually hurt before looking back up.

“Phil’s going to get your ass for this.” Phil, who had been silently watching from the side, laughed quietly at his name being brought into the argument, watching as Techno paused, thinking.

“Hm...” Techno hummed, “What do I fear more: the wrath of the blood god, or Phil’s anger?”

“I’m not mad, son, just disappointed.” Phil crossed his arms, giving Techno a faux-stern look, making him falter before pushing himself to sit up again.

“Goddamnit.” Techno blasphemed, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them, “I suppose bloodshed will have to wait.”

“Good!” Wilbur exclaimed happily, throwing an arm around Techno’s shoulder and grinning, “We’re best friends now.”

“Woah, let’s not be hasty.” Techno warned, though he made no attempt to push Wilbur away. Instead, he leant on Phil, resting on his shoulder and closing his eyes peacefully, the whoosh of swift breezes and the distant cawing of a bird almost enough to make him fall asleep. Phil laughed under his breath, shaking his shoulders slightly and disturbing Techno’s slow drift to sleep.

“You’re both morons,” Phil grinned, looking from the other two to the skyline, at the rising moon, enjoying the silver glow that blanketed the field, “I still love ya’, though.”

“We know.” Wilbur quips, before softening his tone to a quieter whisper, “We love you too, Phil.”

“Mhmm..” Techno hummed in agreement, nuzzling his face closer into Phil’s shoulder, muffling his already sleepy voice, “You’re both great.”

With a small smile and a quickly blossoming warmth in his chest, Phil nodded once, leaning into Techno and Wilbur and quietly sighing. 

Best friends forever. They were all sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter than average, but i still like it! them <3


	3. Leaf pile

Common sense aside, and with the biggest fucking grin on his face, Tommy jumped into the leaf pile.

In all fairness, it had been a whole year since he got to do this last, and he was — though reluctant to admit it — still a child; he was allowed to have a bit of fun, damnit! Though, as he looked down at himself after a bout of giddy laughter and noticed the plenty amber leaves now stuck to his red and white shirt, he couldn’t help but feel slightly regretful.

Luckily, or maybe foolishly, Tommy quickly forgot about his droplets of guilt, instead kicking around in the leaves and savouring the crinkling crackles that sounded out. Lost in his joy, he leant down, scooping up a collection of the fallen plants and throwing them to the air, laughing in the artificial rainfall of the pirouetting orange leaves.

Once everything had settled like dust after a storm, including Tommy, he let out a contented sigh, sifting through the pile for a moment longer before beginning to brush himself down, ridding himself of most of the clinging leaves on his clothes. After being sure that he was mostly clean, Tommy smiled fleetingly, turning on his heel to face the house some way in the distance and hesitating for a moment, before walking towards it.

The leaves crackled underneath his trainers like a roaring fire, with the colour to match, and Tommy simply savoured the noises of the path, the soft chirping of a bird in the trees and the usually unnoticeable skittering of a small animal against the leaf-blanketed floor — probably a lizard or something of the sort. Though he’d never been one for details, Tommy had to admit, when he witnessed scenes like this, it almost made him want to spend his whole life noticing the small things.

Almost. He’d always been more of a “big picture” kind of guy.

When he finally arrived back at the house, he reached into his jean pocket for his keys, fumbling for a moment to get them in the lock before managing and stepping inside, closing the door behind him. Kicking his shoes off without bothering to untie them, Tommy hooked his keys on the key-rack, stretching slightly and heading to the living room.

“Hey, Tommy,” Techno greeted without looking up from his papers, pausing for a moment in thought before scribbling down something or other in chicken-scratch that only he’d be able to read, “How was your walk?”

“Fun.” Tommy replied, smiling as Techno looked up at his breathlessness. With a playfully scolding tut, Techno rose from his makeshift desk at the coffee table and paced to Tommy, reaching into his hair and pulling out a warm-coloured leaf that must’ve been tangled between some strands of fair hair.

“Did you walk through a mini tornado?” Techno quipped, crumpling the leaf in his fist and picking another from his hair, “You’re covered. It’s like you’re in camouflage, nerd.”

“I had fun, what can I say, big man?” Tommy grinned dopily, before shaking his head rapidly like a dog drying itself and letting most of the leaves float down and onto the cream carpet. With a somewhat joking sigh, Techno looked from the littered floor to Tommy’s triumphant expression, and suddenly, any hint of dread was wiped from his expression, replaced with a laugh.

“You’re cleaning that up.” Techno dictated, laughing as Tommy’s expression sunk, “I’m kidding.”

“Good.”


	4. Animal friend

“He’s just so fluffy, y’know?” Fundy grinned, holding his pet fox up by its paws so it stood on its hind legs and moving its arms up and down, “He’s such a cutie!”

“I can see!” Tubbo agreed, holding his own bee in his hand gently, making sure he didn’t accidentally bend its wings, “My bee is fluffy too! Well, more fuzzy, I guess... I miss Spins, but this one is so cool! I’m naming him Stripes!”

“Stripes? Nice name,” Fundy commented, sending Tubbo a glance of agreement before looking back at his fox, “I’m not sure what to name this little guy.”

“Call him PogChamp,” Tubbo joked, pausing for a moment before gasping, “FoxChamp!”

“Tubbo, I’m not calling my pet fox FoxChamp.” Fundy opposed between chuckles, lowering the fox’s paws to the ground and guiding it into his lap.

“Damn.” Tubbo lifted Stripes higher, watching as it bumbled around in the air and making sure it didn’t stray too far, “I’m out of ideas.”

“How do you even keep those things as pets?” Funny commented, also watching Stripes as he held his own pet somewhat protectively against his torso, “They sting and get lost easily. Isn’t that a lot of effort?”

“Not really,” Tubbo began, and Fundy recognised how his eyes lit up, like they always did when he was asked about something he was passionate about, “Actually, they’re hardly any work at all! All they need is flowers to eat and pollinate, a hive, and a safe, enclosed environment. You need to be careful not to scare them, so limiting your sudden movements helps, but yeah!”

“Would you say you need to _bee_ careful?” Fundy snickered, and as much as Tubbo wanted to say what an awful joke that was, he was in a stupidly giggly mood, so instead, he just laughed along, letting Stripes perch gently on his shoulder once he’d calmed down enough.

“That was dumb.” Tubbo sighed, looking at Fundy in clearly faux disappointment.

“But you still laughed!” Fundy pointed out, stroking his fox’s head with the back of his hand. Tubbo smiled.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t see enough content with these two?? smh, MCYT fandom. smh.
> 
> also i wanted to be a beekeeper as a kid and honestly i’m not ready to give up that dream


	5. Cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is slightly more romantically inclined than the others but that’s just because i have no concept of the difference between platonic and romantic affection

Skeppy didn’t ask to get somewhat emotionally attached to the cutesy server at the local quiet cafe. He really didn’t.

It had been just like any other typical Thursday evening, the soft pitter-patter of raindrops striking the pavement acting as good background noise while Skeppy walked home after a long day at InvadedLands Inc, tired from the excessive amount of work he’d gotten done that day; albeit, it was mostly boring paperwork that he barely even read before he signed, and he’d actually spent his time playing Subway Surfers on his phone, but hey, he deserved some credit, damnit.

Soon enough, the rainfall became heavier and heavier, until Skeppy could barely hear his own thoughts over the pounding water. Desperate for some kind of shelter from the brewed storm, he quickly burst into the nearest store, his blue hoodie turned dark from the rain and his hair draped in front of his eyes like a high-schooler’s bad hairdo.

Almost immediately, the smell of coffee and freshly-baked goods dragged Skeppy to the present, making him check his own surroundings and realise that he’d landed in a cafe. While the storm continued to rage outside, he looked around, noticing only a handful of other people in the small store, exchanging muttered words over steaming cups of something or other.

Deciding that this wasn’t the worst place to spend a few hours, Skeppy shook himself off like a wet dog, sending droplets of water everywhere before slicking his hair back so he could see properly and making his way to the counter. After only a few moments of standing there, a worker appeared from the back room, adjusting his glasses and heading to the counter.

Holy shit.

The server seemed young, but still slightly older than Skeppy, with golden-brown hair and these fucking gorgeous caramel eyes behind the red glasses. His face was littered with small freckles, only noticeable because of the warm lighting of the cafe, and he wore what Skeppy assumed was the store’s uniform: a red polo shirt with “Munchy Cafe” embroidered on the left side, the right adorned with a little plastic badge.

“ _His name is.. Bud?_ ” Skeppy thought after reading the name tag, just as the server cleared his throat, “ _Huh_.”

“Hello! How can I help you?” Bud spoke, and oh god, Skeppy was going to explode at that voice.

“Hi, yes, um—“ He stuttered, “Can I have.. uh... Just a coffee? Please?”

“Of course!” Bud smiled, and _wow, please do that again_ , “Milk? Sugar?”

“Um, just black, please.” Skeppy ordered, and Bud nodded, taking a moment to enter the order into a little machine.

“M’kay. Anything else?” Bud asked cheerily, and Skeppy shook his head, not trusting his voice, “Okay, can I get a name?”

“Skeppy.”

“Alright.. Your coffee will be ready shortly!”

Nodding, Skeppy stepped back from the counter, watching for a moment as Bud began making his drink before sighing inaudibly, turning and heading to a four-seater table in the corner of the cafe, sitting down and setting his bag on the chair next to him. After a brief moment of consideration, he reached into his satchel, pulling out a laptop and booting it up, deciding to at least be productive as the storm continued to howl outside, no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“Coffee for Geppy?” Skeppy hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until Bud called his name — or, at least, a somewhat slurred version of his name which he knew he’d be thinking about for a while — and he stood, closing his laptop lid before heading to the counter, greeted by Bud’s cheerful expression, “Here you go!”

Bud handed over the drink, and Skeppy took it thankfully, pulling out his credit card as the server read off the price and swiping it in the machine. After a small moment of processing, the order had been paid for, and despite Bud clearly expecting him to head back to his table, Skeppy had other ideas. 

“So... Why’d you become a cafe waiter?” Skeppy asked. To his slight surprise, Bud leant on the counter, seeming up for conversation; Skeppy assumed he had nothing better to do, especially in the raging weather which surely wouldn’t bring in many other customers. 

“Well, my friend Sap already worked here, and I needed a job since I was taking a gap year off college at the time, so he told me that the cafe he worked at was hiring, and I applied!” Bud grinned, and Skeppy paid slightly more attention than he probably should’ve, “Then I went to college but still kept this job, and soon enough, boom, I’m where I am now!” 

“Oh, that’s pretty cool, having someone you know already work here.” Skeppy commented, and Bud nodded bubbly — he had such a positive energy about him that Skeppy couldn’t quite place, but he adored it, “I’m glad it worked out for you, Bud!” 

“You call random employees ‘Bud’?” Bud snickered, though his eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“When it’s their name, yes.” Skeppy pointed out, and Bud laughed, and Skeppy could listen to that for hours if he wasn’t confused to why. 

“Oh my goodness..” Bud giggled, “Did you forget your glasses at home?” 

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Skeppy glanced to the plastic badge on Bud’s side once again, trying to confirm his statement when— 

Oh god. Oh fuck. 

“What kind of name is Bad?!” Skeppy exclaimed in his shock, feeling the embarrassment seep into his stomach. This was it, he was never going to speak again. Bad’s smile suddenly dropped, and he straightened, no longer leant on the counter. 

“Hey! What kind of name is Geppy?” Bad opposed, and as much as Skeppy wanted to coo at the mispronunciation, he still felt the guilt brewing in his chest like the storm outside, desperately turning it into anger. 

“At least I can pronounce your name!” 

“At least I can know someone else’s name!” 

Skeppy huffed, picking up his coffee with a dramatic groan and turning on his heel to head back to his laptop. 

“Thanks for the coffee, _Bud_.” 

“Always happy to help, _Geppy_.”

Taking his seat annoyedly, Skeppy sipped the somewhat cooled drink, enjoying how it warmed him from the inside, drowning out the burning embarrassment which was once settled in his stomach. Setting the cup down next to his laptop, he opened the lid yet again, deciding to focus on his work rather than the stupid, cute, dumb, attractive barista.

After about ten minutes of purely annoying Mega and Zelk, Skeppy sighed, his mind still stuck on that smile, _goddamn, that smile_. Leaving the other two to whatever boring scheduling they were doing, he closed all of his windows, staring blankly at his screen for a while. 

“Hey,” Skeppy jumped in shock, head whipping around to face Bad, who was stood in front of him, his hand resting on the back of a chair which he then gestured to, “Can I sit here?

“Sure, whatever.” Skeppy sighed, still calming down from the accidental scare as Bad pulled the chair out and sat down, tapping the table idly.

“Um...” Bad began, and Skeppy closed his laptop, despite wanting to completely ignore the barista, giving in to the nagging feeling at the back of his mind which told him to listen, “I’m sorry.”

“You are?” Skeppy questioned, trying and failing to keep the confusion from his expression, “For?”

“Uh- Getting mad, I guess.” Bad knotted his hands together as he fiddled, looking everywhere but at Skeppy, “I shouldn’t have.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m the one who started it!” Skeppy intervened, making Bad look up at him, “You don’t need to apologise!”

“Still...” Bad pouted, “You seem nice, and I would really like to.. actually get to know you, y’know? I kind of blew it..”

“I—“ Skeppy’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and Bad almost giggled, “I mean- I’d, um, like to get to know you too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Well,” Bad smiled softly, and Skeppy couldn’t help himself as he imitated it, “Do you have a phone? You can give me your number! We can keep in touch!”

“Oh, yeah!” Skeppy, still keeping his smile, pulled his phone from his jean pocket (which, to be honest, he’d partially forgotten about) and tapped onto his contacts, looking at Bad expectantly until he’d pulled out his own phone, when Skeppy began rattling off a string of numbers, which Bad quickly recited onto his keyboard.

“M’kay, I think I got it! I’ll message you once my shift finishes so you’ll have my number too!” Bad grinned, shutting his phone off and shoving it back into his pocket, standing from the table, “The storm’s calmed down enough for you to leave now!”

Skeppy glanced out the window, realising that Bad was right: the storm had ended a while ago, barely any rain left spare for the occasional drizzle. With a nod and a smile, Skeppy grabbed his laptop, putting it into his bag and turning to thank Bad, blinking twice when he realised that the server had already retreated to the back room. He stood, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and heading to the store front, pushing open the door and beginning his return home. 

✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎

_** Bud ;) (cafe guy) > ** _

** iMessage **

** Today 21:08 **

Hi Geppy! O-o

hey bud 

I miss your company >:O

i literslly saw u an hour ago

** Delivered **

It feels like longer ಠ_ಠ

•••

•••

Are you free tomorrow?


	6. Forest adventure

“How much longer?” Sapnap groaned, dragging his feet along the woodland floor like a reluctant child, his arms hung limply at his sides as he slouched. The backpack of supplies was beginning to ache his shoulders and the newly-settling Autumn cold was biting and nipping at his cheeks uncomfortably.

“Aw, c’mon, Sapnap! We’re adventuring!” Dream exclaimed, obviously grinning from behind the iconic mask, “There is no set time. Adventure never ends!”

“I’d rather adventure back home to nap.” Sapnap grumbled, drawing a small laugh from George, who’d been trailing behind the other two, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm himself.

“You understand the fun in journeying, right George?” Dream pried, pausing for a moment to let George catch up to them, stifling a snicker as Sapnap nearly walked into his back.

“I’m just admiring all these colours,” George admitted, gesturing to his new Enchroma glasses resting on his nose instead of his regular white frames, which were balanced on his head, “But yeah, I guess it’s pretty cool. Better than endlessly training for Manhunt, at least.”

“Exactly! A nice break!” Dream agreed, nodding at George happily as they continued their trek into the forest.

“Alright, alright, calm down. You two can stroke each other in your own time,” Sapnap snarked, rolling his eyes, “Your idea of a ‘break’ is much different to mine... We’ve been walking for hours! Where are we even going?”

“That’s such a weak mindset.” Dream quipped, manoeuvring through some bushes which had grown in their way, “There is no destination! All that counts is the journey!”

“Okay, camp councillor. This seems pointless.” Sapnap complained yet again, repressing a sigh.

“Maybe it is,” Dream hummed, approaching a particularly thorn-infested thicket and circling around it, “But at least we’ll have some more memories together!”

“Fine! I guess this is fun.” Sapnap finally surrendered, giving in to Dream’s incessant optimism, much to his delight.

“Yes!” Dream fist-bumped the air, laughing triumphantly and basking in his tiny victory, causing the other two to laugh along at the silliness of it.

“That was so stupid...” George laughed, shaking his head like a scolding parent, despite his obvious amusement.

“You’re so stupid!” Dream retaliated childishly, blowing a raspberry to George before breaking down in giggles. Sapnap sighed contently, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I’d rather be stupid with you guys than anyone else.”


	7. Bug-catching

Tommy pounced at the butterfly, swinging his net frantically in a desperate attempt to catch the small creature. Unfortunately, his thrashing only drove it away, causing it to fly out of reach, no matter how much he jumped and struggled.

“No, you’re doing it wrong!” Tubbo corrected, putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to steady him, “You need to be more gentle!”

“Gentle my ass,” Tommy snarled, shrugging the hand away and glaring at the butterfly, “I need to show these bugs that I’m the alpha male here! They should fear me!”

“You’ll never catch one if they fear you!” Tubbo reminded, smiling at his friend’s antics, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“But we’re catching butterflies?” Tommy questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s an expression, Tommy.” Tubbo explained, Tommy quickly pretending like he already knew that and nodding. Taking a deep breath, Tommy looked back at the bug, which had flown lower and was now fluttering across the grass, occasionally landing on a blade only to take off yet again a moment later. Tubbo lowered his voice, “Watch.”

With the precision of a serial killer (which, to be fair, Tommy wouldn’t question), Tubbo crouched down, his eyes trained on the butterfly like a homing missile as he readied his own net. In one swift motion, Tubbo swung his tool forward, capturing the butterfly in the confines and watching carefully as it darted around, searching for an escape. 

“Holy shit.” Tommy gaped, his mouth hung open in shock at Tubbo’s secret skill as the green-clad other dragged his net slowly towards him, urging the bug to move closer and land on the grass beneath it, his eyes still trained on it.

“Look at her!” Tubbo cooed, lifting the net slightly to stick his hand under, eyes sparking as the creature crawled onto his index finger and perched curiously on the joint, “Such a cutie...”

“It’s a fuckin’ bug, Tubbo.” Tommy reminded, fiddling with his net in one hand and shoving his other in his jean pocket lazily. Despite the comment, Tubbo still grinned, holding the bug gently up to eye-level and silently aww’ing at it like a mother to a child. 

“But her wings are so pretty!” Tubbo gasped, giggling quietly when the butterfly fluttered its wings, as if showing them off. Rolling his eyes, Tommy fought a smile, instead letting his eyes drift around for anything to focus on, where he found nothing.

“Fair enough,” Tommy gave in, looking back at the bug and splitting a grin, “It’s green, like you.”

With that comment, Tubbo gasped excitedly, setting the leaf-coloured bug gently on the grass and standing quickly, taking Tommy by the wrist excitedly and skipping away, dragging Tommy behind him.

“Now we need to find a red one! For you!” Tubbo laughed, looking back at Tommy to grin childishly.

Tommy smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i don’t particularly mind if you want to view some of my other oneshots at romantic (such as the Cafe one), but this is your gentle reminder that:
> 
> 1.) Techno thinks that being shipped is “kinda cringe”
> 
> 2.) Tommy and Tubbo are not okay with being shipped, and are minors, so you shouldn’t ship them in the first place
> 
> please respect content creators’ wishes! if you cannot understand this, please don’t interact ٩( ᐛ )و


	8. Cloudgazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw:// slight innuendo? Sapnap makes a vague inappropriate joke or two, so take that as you will

“I’m just not seeing it, Bad,” Sapnap squinted his eyes, tilting his head to poorly mimic Bad’s position and staring at the sky. With a huff, Bad gently took Sapnap’s head into his hands, moving it to get the right angle.

“There! It looks just like a turtle, I swear!” Bad insisted determinedly, pointing at the cloud as if it’ll make a difference. Still, Sapnap couldn’t see it, despite trying his hardest to.

“Looks more like a blob of white to me.” Sapnap sighed as Bad gave up, letting go of his head and crossing his arms, looking away.

“You’re just unimaginative.” Bad complained, his eyes drifting back to the cloudy sky, tracing each of the puffs with his index finger.

“It almost looks like a stain of something inappropriate—“ Sapnap teased playfully, only to be cut off by Bad.

“Hey! Language!”

“What?” Sapnap questioned, a lazy grin on his face, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You—..” Bad fumbled with his words for a moment; Sapnap was technically right, and he knew that, “Well, you implied something naughty!”

“Like cum?” Sapnap raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh as Bad glared at him.

“ _Language_.”

“Sorry, _dad_ ,” Sapnap drawled, rolling his eyes and looking back up, “Still doesn’t look like a turtle.”

“That’s it, I’m breaking your legs.” Bad threatened, leaning over to where Sapnap was sprawled over the grass and reaching for his legs. Instinctively, Sapnap flinched away, laughing as Bad chased after him, managing to grab his undershirt sleeve and wrestling him for a while, both of them rolling around during their play-fight, freshly fallen leaves clinging to their clothes.

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” Sapnap grinned, holding his hands up breathlessly as Bad laughed alongside him, rolling over and sitting next to him.

“About time, you muffin.”

“Shut up!”


	9. Stargazing

They weren’t anything special. They’d always been there. But, for whatever reason, Techno couldn’t take his eyes off the stars.

“Some people believe that you become a star after you die.” Tommy commented, also staring up at the night sky, almost adoringly, each littered speckle of light reflecting in his darkened eyes.

“Really?” Techno humoured. Sure, maybe he’d heard a thing or two about that theory before, but he’d rather let Tommy conjure a conversation from it than ruin the kid’s mood.

“Yeah! It’s the belief that the human soul, when you die, it floats up to the sky and manifests into a ball of light like a star. A lot of people believe it.” Tommy paused, taking a moment to glance at Techno before looking back to the sky, “I tend to like those people.”

“Are you one of them?” Techno questioned, suppressing a yawn and listening closely to Tommy.

“Maybe.” Tommy hummed, “I’d like to think that it isn’t just darkness after you die. I want there to be something there, some big finish to this life.” Tommy outstretched his arms to prove his grandiose before leaning back on them again, “But maybe not. Who knows?”

“You see that bright star?” Techno pointed out, lifting his index finger to point at the sky.

“They’re all bright.” Tommy retaliated.

“No, the particularly bright one. With the blueish glow.” Tommy blinked a few times, focused on staring at the skies before he gasped.

“Yeah, I see it!”

“That’s Vera.” Techno recited, smiling at the blue-tinted star, “It’s the brightest star in Lyra, which is a constellation. It’s only a tenth of the age of the sun but it’s about twice as big.”

“How do you know that?” Tommy interrogated, looking from the star to Techno, who was still trained on it happily.

“We all had weird phases as kids,” Techno defended, shrugging his shoulders slightly and sighing lowly, “Mine was astrology.”

“I can respect that, big man.” Tommy settled, eyes immediately darting back to the starry night sky, his fixation on it not lessening, even when a comfortable silence overcame the two for a few minutes. After a while of listening to the soft sounds around them, Tommy piped up, “Some other people think that we have stardust in our veins.”

“That seems dumb.” Techno commented, mind wandering to how those tiny balls of gas so far away could exist in a human.

“It’s true! Jill Tarter spoke about it on a radio interview. She’s some sciency lady who knows what she’s talking about,” Tommy’s eyes sparkled like the stars as he spoke, and Techno couldn’t help but notice such child-like wonder behind them that he didn’t see often, “Something about the elements or the minerals in our blood is from a star explosion eight million years ago? It was a long time since I read about it.”

“I...” Techno hesitated, still not sure how authentic that was, “...Suppose that makes some level of sense.”

“Yes! I knew it! There’s stardust in our veins!” Tommy grinned triumphantly, bouncing a little in his excitement, “I’m a star!”

Techno watched as Tommy celebrated this discovery, lifting a hand up to the sky and seemingly comparing his skin to the stars. With a laugh, Techno shifted to sit more comfortably, facing between Tommy and the stars.

“Trust me, Tommy, you don’t need any science to tell you that.”


	10. Baking

“I have flour in places it shouldn’t be.” Phil groaned, trying his best to brush himself down, but ultimately just making the powder stick to his clothing annoyingly. From the other side of the room, Wilbur giggled, his hands caked with flour which he had grabbed by the fistful from the bag to throw at Phil.

“I don’t think you’re meant to have flour anywhere.” Will pointed out, only grinning harder when Phil looked at him deadpanned, with the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes, “Why did we need flour again?”

“Because we’re making vanilla cookies for Tommy and Techno before they get back from their stargazing and flour makes cookies rise.” Phil recited, having explained this about three times to Wilbur, who shockingly wasn’t drunk; he just got in these childish moods sometimes and Phil was almost always the one to deal with it.

“Oh, right.” Will remembered, picking up the bag and going to the bowl, “How much?”

“No, no, don’t pour it!” Phil exclaimed, jumping forward to take the bag from Wilbur and holding it protectively against his chest, “You need to put the bowl on the scale, then set it to zero.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Wilbur quickly set the bowl on the scales, spilling a minimal amount of the dry mixture on the counter and fiddling for a moment before figuring out how to set it to zero.

“Good. _I’ll_ pour it, okay?” Phil decided, tipping the bag lightly and watching as the flour fell into the bowl like snowfall, pulling it up as he reached the right amount, “There.”

“Don’t we need to add this vanilla stuff for vanilla cookies?” Wilbur commented, holding up a small bottle of vanilla extract for Phil to see, who’s eyes quickly widened.

“Oh, shhhh—!” He cut himself off from swearing, quickly grabbing a silver teaspoon from the drawer and passing to Wilbur, “Uh, just add two spoons in now. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Wilbur nodded, hurriedly pouring two spoonfuls and spilling more than he was ready to admit as Phil got out a handheld electric whisk and set it on the counter next to the bowl.

“We need to mix it?” Will guessed, eyeing the whisk nervously. The kitchen was already a mess, with various substances all over the counters, flour blanketing the floor, and an unidentifiable burnt smell wafting through the room, and now they had to use a _whisk_?

“Yup.” Phil huffed a sigh, leaning on the counter. They stood in silence for a moment, both debating whether it was really worth it, before Phil straightened, grabbing the whisk like a weapon, “Fuck it.”

In a moment, Phil had grabbed the bowl, pressing the button on the whisk and watching it whir to life, spinning it in the concoction and desperately hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be. Wilbur just watched on, not wanting to get involved so he could blame Phil when it inevitably went wrong.

“What do vanilla cookies taste like?” Will asked as Phil stopped mixing, looking at the doughy substance and deciding it was good enough, putting the whisk in the sink.

“They’re vanilla, Wilbur. What do you think they taste like?” Phil joked, “We need to dollop spoonfuls onto the tray, decently spaced apart.”

“Okay, Baker Phil!” Will saluted playfully, grabbing a large spoon and beginning to put the dough onto the pre-prepared tray.

“You got it?”

“Yup.”

“If you say so...” Wilbur nodded determinedly, scooping up the batter as Phil laughed, going and washing his hands in an attempt to rid himself of the powder still on his fingers (it didn’t really work, but it got rid of the worst of it, so he’d count that as a win).

“Now what?” Will questioned, motioning to the now empty bowl when Phil turned to face him. 

“Put it in the oven.” He commanded, just watching as Wilbur grabbed the tray, tipping it dangerously and nearly dropping it as he opened the oven, steadying himself and shoving the dough in quickly, desperate to relieve himself of some of the responsibility. Glancing at Phil to get a look of approval, Will set the time on the oven, finally letting himself step back and relax. 

“That was...” 

“Stressful.” Phil finished, yawning into his elbow and eyeing the mess of a kitchen they had created, “Will we need to clean this up?” 

“We? I think you mean you.” Wilbur laughed, though Phil seemed unimpressed before he cracked, chuckling too. 

“Seriously though, you’re helping clean this up.”


	11. Picnic

“This is... excessive.” 

Eret pouted, crossing his arms and stropping as Fundy looked around, taking in the soft fairy lights strung in the trees and the red and white plaid blanket laid on the grass upon the hill, also strewn with small lights and a wicker basket, “No, really. This is a lot.”

“You said you wanted to relax! This is how I relax; I thought you might want to try it!” Eret exclaimed, quickly adjusting his glasses and unfolding his arms, instead heading to the blanket and sitting cross-legged on it as if it were second nature. Though hesitantly, Fundy followed, kneeling on the cloth and still taking in the scene, “You need to relax! Sit with your legs out, slack your shoulders, just enjoy the sunset, y’know?”

Now that Eret had pointed it out, Fundy noticed that it was sunset, the sky painted a wonderful mixture of purples and oranges. Letting a quiet moment roll over them both, he pulled his legs out from beneath him, straightening them casually in front of him so his boots rest on the grass instead of the blanket, and breathed deeply, relaxing his shoulders and jaw and glancing to Eret, who was watching the sunset wistfully.

“Okay,” Fundy piped up after a while, Eret looking over at him curiously, “I’ll admit. This is nice.”

“Isn’t it just?” Eret hummed, his voice groggier than before as he motioned to the picnic basket between them, “Help yourself.”

“Wait, there’s actually food in here?!” Fundy gasped, flipping open the lid to find that Eret hadn’t lied: the basket was laden with all kinds of light snacks, from granola bars to Twixes to marshmallows. His eyes lit up as he pulled out some random chocolate bar he’d never heard of and unwrapped it quickly, examining it for less than a moment before biting down, savouring the gooey caramel which seeped onto his tongue.

Silently (mostly because his mouth was full and stuck with the golden goodness), Fundy offered his bar to Eret, who looked at it for a moment before shaking his head kindly, smiling and looking back to the sliver of sun left above the horizon. With a shrug and a satisfied hum, Fundy chewed into the chocolate again, only taking a few more mouthfuls before it was gone, leaving him with the silver wrapper, which he crumpled up and shoved back into the basket.

“Dude, American chocolate is so good,” Fundy grinned, prodding at the caramel stuck in his teeth with his tongue, knowing he’d have to brush it out later.

“It was one of the best things about living there before I came to the SMP.” Eret agreed, pupil-less eyes flitting to Fundy, then back to the horizon.

“Do you want to move back there?” Fundy questioned, turning fully to Eret, who considered it for a moment, turning the proposal over in his head. Finally, he chuckled.

“And give up living here? No way.”

And the sun finally disappeared beyond the skyline.


	12. Rainy day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing this chapter while living in England, on a train ride for two hours as it thunders outside: ✨immersion✨

Ant yanked his hood up hurriedly, faltering slightly in his sprint as he desperately tried to escape from the pounding rainfall, each droplet thumping on the road like a rock while the storm raged above him. Still not pausing his running, he glanced up, realising that the rain was nowhere near finished and he’d need to find shelter: in his panic, he’d ran the opposite way to his house, and he didn’t want to turn and dart back, effectively keeping him in the rain for longer.

Yet again, his hood flew off of his face, a mixture of the running and the strong gusts of wind chilling his cheeks causing his only portable source of shelter to be blown away. As he sprinted into a more woodland-heavy area, Ant pushed away the sounds of the trees being battered by the wind — which sounded awfully like white noise, now that he mentioned it — and the pounding rain now on the muddied path, before realising something and gasping.

Bad’s house. It was nearby.

Ant felt the urge to grin to himself, but held back, knowing he shouldn’t count his victories before they happen and turning when the path split in two, reciting the way using his muscle memory, and soon enough, he’d arrived at the brick and spruce house surrounded by trees. It wasn’t much, being medium and build by Bad himself (which was pretty impressive), but it was protection.

Rushing up the small staircase to the door and careful not to fall on the slippery wood, Ant hurriedly knocked the door exactly seven times, glancing around at the rain which was still freezing him over, the wind tormenting his hair.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before Bad opened the door, stood in comfortable black jeans and a light grey jumper, a mug of something or other in his hand and his cloak hung on the rack beside him. He must’ve said something, but Ant couldn’t hear it over the thumping rain, which Bad seemingly clocked as he stepped aside, motioning in and smiling, which Ant quickly accepted, stepping inside and shivering at the sudden temperature change.

“Did you get caught in the storm?” Bad questioned after shutting the door, setting his mug down on a small cabinet which he had in his hallway as he wandered into the bathroom.

“Yeah, a little bit.” Ant replied, holding his arms up like a puppet and staring at the soaking material, which was dripping onto Bad’s hardwood floor, just as Bad returned with a fluffy white towel. 

“I can get you spare clothes!” He exclaimed, placing the folded towel on the cabinet.

“Please.” Ant requested. Without wasting a moment, Bad dashed upstairs, rummaging around for a moment before he bounded back down, holding out the clothes happily, which Ant took, “Thanks.”

“Of course! Go into the bathroom and get changed, here, use this,” Bad grabbed the towel again, offering it to Ant and adding it onto the pile of clothes, “I’ll make you a hot cocoa!”

Before Ant could object, Bad had rushed into the kitchen, and he sighed, stepping into the bathroom and dumping the pile onto the closed toilet seat after closing the door with his hip. Peeling off his wet-through clothing, he sighed, standing in his boxers and wrapping the towel around himself as he checked what Bad had given him: black tracksuit bottoms, a grey t-shirt with something or other written in Standard Galactic Alphabet on the breast (‘ ∴ ⍑ ||  ↸ ╎↸ ⚍ ℸ ̣  ∷ ᔑ リ ᓭ ꖎ ᔑ ℸ ̣  ᒷ ℸ ̣  ⍑╎ ᓭ ꖎ ᒲᔑ 𝙹 ’. Despite not having any idea what that meant, Ant thought it sounded inspirational.), a dark red pullover hoodie, and some white socks. 

_Good enough_ , Ant hummed, drying himself off more before grabbing the shirt and pulling it over his head, pulling it down and noticing that it was slightly too big on him, not that he was opposed to baggy clothing. Searching through the pile once again for socks, Ant sniffed, feeling himself develop a cold. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, noticing that Bad had also given him boxers; considering it for a moment, Ant figured that they were certainly clean, since Bad had offered them to him, and his own boxers were also pretty soaked from the rain passing through the fabric.

With a somewhat defeated sigh, he changed into them.

Not wanting to spend much more time on it, Ant quickly pulled on the clothes, unsurprised that everything was too big on him, despite him and Bad being about the same height. With a huff, he scooped up his pile of discarded clothing, nudging the door open with his foot and stepping outside. 

“Hey!” Bad grinned, pausing whatever he was doing to guide Ant into the kitchen, motioning to the open washing machine, “Here, put them in here. I can wash your clothes!” 

“Thanks Bad,” Ant grinned, sniffing as he pushed the clothes in and stood properly, turning to be greeted with Bad offering him a steaming mug, space-themed with “ **Houston, we have a problem** ” printed on the side. Chuckling, Ant took the nerdy cup, taking a sip and almost immediately scorching his tongue, gasping at the hot liquid, which Bad giggled at. 

“That was dumb.” 

“A little bit, yeah...” 

The storm continued to wreak its havoc outside, but still, they laughed, no amount of rain or wind able to deter their joy.


	13. Sleepover

“Yes! Come on!” Tubbo exclaimed, leaning his full weight into it as he spammed his controller, eyes trained on the flashing screen while he attacked the enemy, desperate to complete the level.

“You got this, Tubbo!” Tommy shouted excitedly in return, his hands balled into fists and his controller on his thigh, having been abandoned long ago since he’d died in favour of cheering for Tubbo. In a flash, the digital enemy lashed at the character, sending them backwards and dealing a lot of damage; Tubbo tried to recover, but it was too late, the screen flashing an all-too-familiar “ **You Died** ” message in his defeat.

“Goddamnit.” Tubbo groaned, setting his own controller on the armrest of the sofa as he leant back, rubbing his eyes after staring at the bright colours for so long and savouring the sweet darkness which enveloped him.

“We were so close...” Tommy sighed, shifting to get more comfortable, not minding when the controller slipped off his leg and clattered on the floor.

“There’s always—“ Tubbo cut himself off to yawn, “—Next time.”

“Tired?” Tommy enquired, knowing he was too as Tubbo nodded drowsily. The two rested in a comforting silence for a while, no need to talk for them to enjoy each other’s company, “Hey Tubbo?”

“Hm?” Tubbo hummed, opening an eye to look at Tommy, who was also slouched back, staring at the ceiling, his eyes scanning each small mark or inconsistency in the colouring.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Tubbo blinked, still watching Tommy, who, after a moment without a reply, directed his full attention to Tubbo, where he smiled softly.

“Yeah, I know...” Tubbo smiled back, closing his eyes again and curling into a ball against the cushions, “You’re my best friend too, Tom.”

“I think we’ll be best friends forever.” Tommy mused, relaxing more and feeling himself drift into sleep, not bothering to fight the overwhelming drag, “Me and you.”

“I think so too.” Tubbo yawned, before fidgeting a little more and settling properly. Within a few moment, both boys were asleep, the red screen still a reminder of their failures, yet their friendship seemed to overcome any of that.

✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎✎✐✎

BONUS://

Phil dragged himself drowsily down the stairs, humming a slow tune in the early hours which only the birds and the lizards would ever hear as he headed into the kitchen, flicking on the coffee machine and smiling as it whirred to life without argument. Knowing it would take a while to brew, Phil wandered around, planning out his day in his head when something — or, someones — caught his eye.

With a fatherly smile, Phil quickly snuck to the corner of the room, grabbing a blue blanket from the folded pile and looking back at the two boys, both sound asleep in the dawn, the soft breaths sounding throughout the room rhythmically. Carefully, he draped it over their resting bodies before heading back to the kitchen. His coffee was ready.


	14. Movie day

The intoxicating smell of buttery popcorn and chocolates wafted into the room along with Phil, who had skilfully balanced the bowls and trays of treats on his arms and hands similarly to a waiter at a restaurant. Without missing a beat, Wilbur leapt up to help him, taking a few of the plates from the dent of his elbow and setting them on the coffee table, along with the ones Phil had.

It was time for their Sleepy And Co Movie Marathon (trademarked): a monthly gathering to discuss how they’d all been and if anything interesting had happened. In all honesty, it was probably Phil’s favourite time of month, so he always made sure to prepare addictive treats for everyone to munch on.

Techno dragged himself through the front door, running a hand through his windswept hair and sighing. He’d just arrived home from a battle, and though he was exhausted, he couldn’t resist his smile at the sweet smell while he pulled off his signature red cloak and set it on the back of a chair. Waving cheerfully, Phil’s grin only grew as Tommy and Tubbo walked in from the hallway, bantering amongst themselves and enjoying each other’s company.

Just as Phil was about to phone Fundy and Niki, a knock sounded from the door, and as soon as Wilbur opened it, Niki had walked in, smiling kindly when she saw everyone else — Fundy swiftly followed behind her, muttering something about how she always forgets the time of the meeting.

“Welp, that’s everyone!” Phil clapped his hands together excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. One by one, everyone made their way to the sofas, taking their iconic places:

Fundy always claimed the end, allowing him to sling his feet over the armrest and rest his head on Tommy’s legs, who was right beside him. Next to Tommy was Tubbo, who appreciated the warmth of both Tommy and Techno next to him; Techno sprawled himself out respectfully, with one arm stretching behind Tommy and Tubbo and the other rest on the corner of the L-shaped couch, where Niki perched. She smiled and leaned sideways into Wilbur, who shifted so the tired one would be more comfortable, and Phil sat next to Will, a pillow against his chest and his position cross-legged.

“Alright everyone!” Tommy exclaimed, gathering everyone’s attention, “Me and Toob over here—“ He gestured briefly to Tubbo, “—have counted up the votes, and the winning genre was musical theatre! Which is pretty fuckin’ stupid if you ask me, but hey, it’s democracy.” Tommy cackled for a moment before regaining his composure, “Tubbo, please.”

“Right! So, we’ve decided on three musical films to watch tonight: the first being the, dare I say, most classic of our selection, the story of gangs and culture, you all know it, ‘ _West Side Story_ ’!” Tubbo announced. At this, a few of the others noticeably perked up, excited at the mere mention of the movie.

“And next up, we have the perilous journey of all our favourite fairy tale characters in a fascinating crossover, you guessed it, it’s ‘ _Into The Woods_ ’!” 

Once again, the group smiled, always enjoying Tommy and Tubbo’s preview speeches that they loved to do, “And, last but certainly not least, the story of a man with nothing but a golden heart and a big dream, of course, it’s ‘ _The Greatest Showman_ ’!”

“Aw. I was really hoping _Cats_ would win.” Techno groaned jokingly, making everyone chuckle at the memory of such an unnecessarily sexual movie. Once they had all calmed, Fundy stood to insert the first DVD, all of them relaxing happily as Niki selected ‘ **START** ’ and the movie began. Laying there, in the warmth and company of each other, they all were truly contented.

Phil smiled fatherly; Techno wasn’t stressed; Wilbur let his jaw relax; Tommy felt his defensive walls fall; Tubbo’s worries of being annoying melted; Fundy let himself be in a family; Niki shuffled further into the cushions.

And their family was whole.


	15. Your choice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i got to choose my own prompt for this one, so i looked through some of my old incorrect quotes from a different fandom and made a story out of one of them! here :)

Phil knocked a clear three times on the door, shoving one hand in his pocket and using the other to adjust his hat. Left without an immediate response like he usually received, he knocked again, eyebrows furrowing as he considered why. Still, no answer. Sighing, he leant against the doorframe of the spruce door.

“Techno, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to come in.” Phil warned, knocking a handful more times and waiting for a moment before sighing, reaching for the golden doorknob and pushing the entrance open.

The first thing Phil noticed was how tidy the room was, as it had been since the moment they’d moved into the house: the bed was made neatly, the desk chair tucked underneath the table, and each book on the shelf meticulously organised by colour.

Surprisingly, the second thing was how there was no light in the room, spare for the small slivers of natural sunlight leaking in through the edges of the blinds which didn’t quite reach the end of the window, and a single nightlight set on the top shelf of his bookshelf, glowing a deep blue and sending the entire room into a sleepy atmosphere.

And the third thing was Techno.

He was lying facedown on the grey carpet, his red cape folded and draped over his nightstand, Techno himself only in plaid trousers and a black t-shirt substituting for the business casual he often wore. His breaths were slow and steady, as if he were putting a little too much effort into stabilising the rhythm, and his eyes were closed against the fluff, relaxed in such a way that it almost looked like he was asleep.

“Um— Technomate? You good, son?” Phil questioned, supposing that Techno looked comfortable but not entirely sure why he was on the floor, of all places. Despite being clearly addressed, Techno made no effort to move, nor to look at Phil; instead, he spoke into the floor, voice muffled and quiet.

“Mhm.” Techno hummed, “‘M jus’ takin’ a break from existin’.”

“You’re taking a—“ Phil echoed, before breaking off into quiet laughter. Every time he thought he’d grown used to his sons’ strangeness, they’d come up with something like this, “—A break from existing?”

“Well,” Techno tilted his head to the side, his voice immediately becoming clearer, “I can’t actually take a break from existing, y’know, so this is the next best thing.”

“Why’re you taking a break from existing?” 

Techno was silent. With a sigh, Phil thought, tempted to pick his son up and lay him on the bed, but he ultimately decided to respect Techno’s odd ways of living and leave him to it. 

Nudging the door closed with his foot, Phil walked over to Techno, sitting cross-legged next to him and closing his eyes. Slowly, surely, he relaxed every muscle in his body, until he only focused on his own steady breathing, and his heartbeat. It was relaxing. His mind went blank as he forgot the world outside.

“What’re you doing?” Techno asked, face buried back into the carpet. Phil allowed himself the smallest hint of a smile.

“Taking a break from existing with you.”


	16. Spooky stories

“And then he ran away!” Tubbo finished, throwing out his arms and grinning excitedly, “Ta-da!”

“Really?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, noticing how Tubbo’s features flickered in the campfire light, opposed to the rest of the dark forest, “That sucked.”

“No, it was scary!” Tubbo insisted, lightly punching his fists into the log he was sitting on.

“Scarily stupid, yeah.” Tommy quipped, pausing before laughing at his own joke. Instead of laughing along, Tubbo huffed, crossing his arms but not able to keep the act up long as he chuckled.

“Okay then, do you have a better one?” Tubbo interrogated, raising a signature eyebrow and folding his arms suspiciously. With a cackle, Tommy cleared his throat, readying himself to tell a scary story.

“Well, once upon a time, there was this person who loved watching their favourite Twitch streamer, TommyInnit—“

“Sounds terrifying.” Tubbo snarked, giggling when Tommy glared at him before continuing the story.

“—And this person wasn’t subscribed to him. One day, they heard him talk about this weird thing called ‘Twitch Prime’, where they could subscribe to him for free! So they scrolled down and realised that they actually had a free Twitch Prime subscription. But, lean in close, Tubbo...”

Tubbo leaned forward, as well as Tommy, so both of their faces were dangerously close to the campfire, the flickering light setting an eerie scene.

“...They didn’t use their Twitch Prime!” Tommy exclaimed, throwing his arms out and lifting his feet slightly off the ground. Playing along with the act, Tubbo gasped, lifting his hands to his face and trembling.

“Tommy, that was so scary!” He reacted, clearly trying to hold back laughter. They stayed in silence for only a short second, as it was quickly shattered by Tommy’s iconic laugh, which Tubbo also laughed along with. The campfire shuddered, weak to the small breeze which gusted by, but it didn’t extinguish.

They were only kids; there was nothing to be afraid of.


	17. Hot chocolate

Dream stared at the alarm clock, blinking once, twice, before startling out of his bed and landing on the carpet with a muffled thud. The red display showing “ **23:14** ” flashed mockingly as he quickly pushed himself up, throwing random pyjamas out from his drawer and getting dressed so quickly that he thought he’d pulled a muscle. Yanking his hoodie back on over the top of his sleep shirt, Dream booked it into the (luckily) unoccupied bathroom.

Brushing his hair at the speed of light, Dream made sure he was happy with how he looked, straightening his mask slightly and smiling into the mirror, despite not being able to see it. With a relieved sigh, he stepped out, running down the stairs two at a time and sliding on the hallway floor before he reached the living room, stumbling in and panting.

“None of you woke me up!” Dream exclaimed, looking from each of his friends accusingly, each of them holding a mug of hot cocoa gladly; silently, Bad paused the movie they were watching.

“Well, you looked like you were sleeping well..” Ant defended, looking away and taking a sip of his hot drink, savouring the flavour and how it warmed him from the inside out.

“We didn’t want to wake you up and make you grumpy, idiot.” Sapnap stuck his tongue out, responded to with a middle finger, which he quickly gasped at in faux-offence. 

“But now I’ve missed the first half of it...” Dream sulked, walking to where George was curled under a blanket and collapsing next to him, ignoring his amused smile and just wallowing in his sorrow.

“It’s okay, Dream. There’s always next month.” Bad reminded, motioning to his steaming mug, “Want one?”

“Bad, it wouldn’t be ‘Movie and Hot Chocolate Night’ without the hot chocolate.” Dream explained, watching as Bad nodded and stood, setting his cup down and heading to the kitchen.

“We’re watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, by the way.” George filled Dream in with what he’d missed, and Dream glanced to the screen, noticing that George was right.

“Oh, that’s one of my favourite Christmas movies.” Dream smiling, settling himself within the pillows of the couch as Sapnap laughed.

“Did you seriously just call The Nightmare Before Christmas... A Christmas movie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow disbelievingly as Dream nodded, “That’s not normal.”

“I’m with Sap here,” Ant commented, fighting off a yawn which was building up in his throat, “It’s definitely a Halloween movie.”

“No, it’s Christmas! It’s literally in the title!”

“But it’s set around Halloween!” Ant defended, gesturing vaguely to the screen, “He literally lives in the Halloween dimension.”

“But he goes to the Christmas one!” Dream sighed, also throwing his arms out to try and exaggerate his point, “Jeez... Next you’re going to try and tell me that Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie.”

“It isn’t though?”

“HOW—!”


	18. Playing an instrument

“You really want me to sing you to sleep?” Wilbur mocked, raising an eyebrow as Tommy and Tubbo laid in their sleeping bags, the fire at their feet reduced to only the tired embers of what once was a powerful roar. With a huff, Tommy crossed his arms, looking away.

“It helps me sleep, dickhead.” He rebutted, not bothering to hide his sleepy smile as Will sighed, wandering to the tent where he was to sleep and grabbing his guitar. The boys had insisted on resting under the night sky, while Wilbur taxed the actual tent, something which he’d never understand, especially not on the cold October night.

Taking a deep breath and noticing the faint wisps of air from his mouth, Wilbur perched himself on a sideways log nearby, strumming his guitar once to make sure it was tuned before making a rhythm, the sounds reminding him of home. Tommy and Tubbo both lay silently, exchanging unspoken thoughts through glances and looks before Tubbo settled, snuggling down in his green sleeping bag and closing his eyes, his breaths slowly steadying as Will still played.

“Darling, I’m with Saint Bernard’s, and we’re scouring the the Alps and the Andes,” Wilbur sung softly, trying not to be too brash as Tommy also closed his eyes, playfully mouthing to the lyrics that he’d heard Will sing so many times, “And if they die then it is on my head. They follow paw prints in the snow to my throne, to my bed.”

“You’re pouting in your sleep, I’m waking, still yawning,” Tommy joined in hushed whispers; Wilbur hoped to god that the kid wouldn’t open his eyes and see the grin on his face, but honestly, it was probably obvious in his voice, “Proving to each other that romance is boring.”

And it was true: romance is boring when you have your brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Romance is boring by Los Campesinos! (i’d honestly recommend it, absolute banger)
> 
> Wilbur did a cover of it on his music channel a year ago, so it only felt right to have it here :)


	19. Decorating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve fallen a bit behind with chapters D: i should be back on track soon , just got busy and didn’t have the time nor inspiration to write daily. i’m ready and raring with ideas now though!

“Bad!” Skeppy screamed, dragging out the name for longer than probably necessary and making Bad jump, nearly dropping the pumpkin he had been carrying, “Bad!”

“One second!” He shouted back, setting the carved vegetable on the counter and hurrying to the living room, where he’d heard Skeppy calling for him. As he walked in, Bad stifled a giggle, watching as Skeppy struggled to escape from a clump of fake cobwebs he’d somehow tangled himself in.

“Stop laughing! Help!” Skeppy exclaimed, despite his own grin creeping onto his face. With a faux-disappointed sigh, similarly to that of the parent of a misbehaving child, Bad made his way over to Skeppy, who’d managed to worsen his situation.

“You’re like a fly..” Bad quipped under his breath, grabbing the cobwebs and beginning to help Skeppy out, realising that it was much easier than it looked. Within moments, Bad had freed Skeppy from his own mess, tutting disapprovingly and keeping the webs bundled in his hands, “You don’t get to decorate anymore. I don’t trust you.”

“Wha— Hey!” Skeppy protested, crossing his arms and pouting, “That’s unfair!”

“Fine. You can decorate under my supervision.” Bad compromised, and Skeppy grinned excitedly, bouncing on the heels of his feet, eyes sparkling.

“Yes! Thank you Bad!” Skeppy shouted, pulling Bad into a hug so tight, it was almost like he’d been wrapped in cobwebs himself. With a chuckle, he patted Skeppy’s back with his free hand, melting into the warmth contrasting to the cold October air.


	20. Haunted house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t proofread this at all

Wilbur latched onto Techno’s arm, trembling as a dog barked outside and shattered the silence they were once exploring in; Techno held back a smirk, trying to yank his arm away, to no avail. They’d both decided to check out the abandoned house that Tommy had found one day, since they didn’t want Tommy and Tubbo to try and navigate the rotting hallways and creaking floorboards. While Techno was excited, Wilbur wasn’t as enthusiastic.

“It was... just a dog.” Techno deadpanned, pulling Will along towards the staircase, “We need to go up.”

“We don’t _need_ to go anywhere,” Wilbur glowered, glaring around sharply, as if the shadows were plotting against him, “Can we just go home? I don’t— ...This place gives me a bad feeling.”

“Anything like this gives you a bad feeling.” Techno retaliated, dragging Wilbur up the unstable stairs and heading through the hallway, slivers of sunlight spilling in from the cracks and holes in the walls. Just as Wilbur was opening his mouth to argue, a loud bang from behind them sounded out, so they spun around to face it. A few moments later, it thumped again, like a large body falling over, and Techno, transfixed by the noise, began creeping to where it was coming from.

“Techno, no.” Wilbur tried desperately to hold Techno back, but he was far weaker than the trained warrior.

“Techno, yes.” Will could only helplessly follow as Techno continued on, eventually stopping in front of the last door in the hallway. It bellowed out again, and the door burst open with a strong gust of wind, followed by a blood-curdling roar.

“Techno! Let’s just leave— We’re leaving, Techno!”

Yet Techno didn’t move, his free hand prepared on the hilt of his sword, the other held in front of Wilbur protectively. Two eyes peered out from the darkness, which turned into three eyes, then four— soon enough, there were too many to count, all sickly red and fixed on Techno. The creature roared again, rustling his hair; Wilbur almost whimpered, grabbing Techno’s arm tighter and sending pointed glances to the stairwell.

Taking heavy steps forward, the creature stepped into the dim light, shaking the entire house as it approached, snarling. It was gargantuan, bigger than any Warden or Wither that Techno had ever battled before, its yellow teeth bared and its fur a nauseating green. Wilbur gagged, as Techno stared up at the beast determinedly. Was he scared? Or did he embrace death that much?

Wilbur didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to find out, either.

As soon as the creature roared again, cracking an already-breaking window and making a flimsy wooden beam crash from the ceiling, Techno came to his senses and darted away, dragging Wilbur after him, who didn’t hesitate to sprint alongside him. They bounded towards the stairs and very nearly fell down them, racing to the doorway and bursting through, though they didn’t stop running until the nightmarish house was in the distance. Both of them panted heavily, collapsing onto a patch of grass beneath a tree to catch their breath.

“Welp...” Techno sighed, sitting up and straightening his crown, “Sorry for not trusting your instinct, I guess.”

“No, no, it’s fine..” Wilbur assured through an exhale, though he was still trembling, “It’s my fault, y’know, since I agreed to explore with you.”

“Well then, it’s both of our faults. At least we can get some good clickbait from this.” Techno pointed out.

“I suppose.” Will hummed, tugging his beanie back onto his head.

“If there’s one thing we learnt today, it’s that you should never listen to Tommy. Agreed?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”


End file.
